


begin again, don't let me go

by unhappyrefrain



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bittersweet Ending, Clothed Sex, Ex Sex, Face-Fucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Moving On, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Reminiscing, Resolved Sexual Tension, Role Reversal, thanks @ happy elements for keirei event, this is. shameless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 14:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11876487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unhappyrefrain/pseuds/unhappyrefrain
Summary: "It's socutehow ya won't look at me when I'm tryin' to get your attention." Rei's voice is deep, still throaty from the Live, but more importantly he'stalking like he used to,and every bit of self control in Keito is struggling to leave his body. "You really haven't changed, have you,boy?"(Or: Rei and Keito come to an understanding, somehow.)





	begin again, don't let me go

**Author's Note:**

> this is for ohvictor @ ao3!!! thank you i love you i hope this is worth it!!  
> i was seriously debating whether to publish this mess under my own name or just orphan it but whatever. let me be shameless.  
> before you ask yes this takes place at the very end of the year so keito is already 18
> 
> god rei's card was so weak but i'm so fucking gay *staring at my maxed rei* i'm so fucking gay

Keito is cleaning up the remnants of the Repayment Fes— paperwork to enstate that Oogami kid as official leader of Undead after graduation; paperwork to keep Akatsuki, which would be a one-man unit by the time they leave, still selectable to the incoming class of first years; paperwork to disband the temporary unit DEADMANZ for the second time— when disaster strikes the student council room in the form of Sakuma Rei.

He's still wearing the ridiculous outfit, animal print and all, still disheveled, forehead shining with sweat, and Keito hates that he can still look this _good_ even after a Live. Physical exertion makes Keito look like a tomato-red, bleary-eyed mess, but Rei stays almost inhumanly unruffled; his usually pale countenance has an ever-so-slight, oh-so-attractive flush, and his lips are redder and fuller, his eyes heavy-lidded and terribly enticing. Keito has long since showered and changed back into his uniform before returning to the student council room after hours, but Rei seems as if he's just been _waiting_. As if he knew that eventually Keito would return here, and the moment he did, Rei would chase him, _corner_ him.

"Sakuma," Keito says, as flatly as he can, not even looking up. "Do you have business with me? I'm busy." He feigns signing a few more papers, pointedly avoiding the DEADMANZ dissolution form.

Rei _laughs_ , and it's so rough and cocky and _confident_ , not his usual lazy _kukuku_ chuckle, and Keito's head snaps up unbidden. Suddenly the moon feels too bright, too full, illuminating Rei from the window behind the desk, and Keito supposes vampires _would_ look best in the moonlight, anyway—

He catches himself staring much too late, because Rei is flashing a grin that says he's already noticed, and it's so absolutely unfair. After all this time, Rei still bewitches him, leads Keito off his chosen path, a will-o'-the-wisp flickering dangerously in the deep forests that surround him, one he can't help but to follow.

"It's so _cute_ how ya won't look at me when I'm tryin' to get your attention." Rei's voice is deep, still throaty from the Live, but more importantly he's _talking like he used to_ , and every bit of self control in Keito is struggling to leave his body. "You really haven't changed, have you, _boy?_ "

Keito bites his lip. It's such a familiar appellation, in the same self-assured drawl he remembers, and he forgets to feel indignant at being talked down to in favor of a full body shiver. Rei plants his hand on the desk and swivels over behind it, fangs glinting. _Curse_ the moon and the way it lights up Rei's profile like that, a cutting silhouette.

He's close enough to touch. Close enough to reach for the lapel of that leather jacket and pull in and kiss, deep and unrestrained like they used to, like they did the last time Rei wore these clothes. Keito stands up to address him directly.

“Just tell me what you’re here for, Sakuma,” he snaps, forcing himself to look at Rei this time, straight in the eye, and he realizes his mistake a bit too late. Rei grins again, and it makes Keito wince.

“Nothin’ really, I just wanted to see your cute face,” he teases. “Don’t ya wanna talk a bit with me? I _know_ ya missed me.” There’s the easy saunter in his step. _I’m not going to fall for it this time,_ Keito tells himself.

“Nothing of the sort. But fine, if you’re so insistent. Sit down if you dare, and I’ll make sure to lecture you properly for acting so cold to your juniors and making such a ridiculous last-minute gambit in reviving DEADMANZ.”

Rei rolls his eyes. He doesn’t sit down— Keito feels something within him prickle and get agitated. “Ugh, not like _that_ , shitty glasses, I didn’t come here to get nagged.”

“Then why _did_ you come here? You knew I would just reprimand you the moment I got the chance to talk to you alone.”

"Reminiscence," Rei states bluntly, sidling up close to Keito and turning his chin in his hands, an enticing, very _familiar_ glint in his eye. Keito knows that look, and for a moment he blinks, and Rei's hair is shorter and his fangs are sharper and he looks _proud_ again. "Don't tell me you're not feeling nostalgic as well, after that. Remember? You and I, fumbling with all the snaps on our outfits after that Live, fucking backstage..."

And it's _true_ , and Keito can't remember if it was an apology fuck or just adrenaline or anything to numb the pain of losing him, the last night just before Rei got on that plane and came back a hundred years older because of what _he_ helped Eichi do.

(But it was satisfying, it was more satisfying than any other time they had fucked, and no matter how many nights he spends trying to imagine Eichi under him or Kuro over him, it always comes back to Rei—)

(Rei's hands on his chest, on his hips—)

(Rei's mouth close to his hipbone—)

(Rei leaning forward on Keito's lap, Rei's fangs grazing the thin skin on Keito's neck, Rei clamping down and drinking the moment his hips sink down to meet him—)

"That was then," Keito growls, but Rei's hand slides around his waist, and he instinctively returns the touch with a yank of Rei's hair, just hard enough to make him wince, but not too much as to pull out any loose strands. It's stuck together with sweat; Rei's chin falls back, and he sighs. "Whichever way you look at it, that was a product of the time. The way things are now..."

_It would never work. I tried to use your influence for my own purposes and then you left me, and I backed up Eichi instead, and he ruined your life, and you'll never forgive him, so by extension you'll never forgive me. Nothing is the same. Neither of us are the same anymore._

_Why do we still come back to this?_

"Uh huh, yeah, sure. But you don't wanna sign that paper, do you, boy?"

It catches Keito off guard how spot on Rei is, how easily he can locate the weak points in Keito's well-constructed defenses. Keito balks, shoves Rei off him, sits straight back down and tries to take the pen to the form. In a moment of desperation, just to forget everything, reduce everything to nothing in the face of this stubborn demon, this unwavering temptation. If he doesn’t do it now, he may never want to.

But Rei just as easily leans over and plucks the pen from between Keito's fingers, pockets it casually.

"Hey! That's an expensive pen— never mind that, let me sign the forms!"

"Now, now," Rei taunts, his voice low again, a gently scolding note in his tone. It sounds almost as if he's imitating himself, mimicking his antiquated speech as if it's not how he usually talks nowadays. "Let's wait on finishing that until we're done here, yeah?"

"We _are_ done here. I told you, that was then, it's not going to happen again," Keito snaps, stands back up as if making to leave, and then grabs for the pen in the breast pocket of Rei's leather jacket. Rei catches his wrist.

"I don't _care_ ," Rei murmurs, pulls Keito in closer, up against the window behind the student council desk, hot breaths panting out into Keito's neck. "I don't _fucking_ care, we're not done, we can just pretend, we can forget about who we are now, fuck me like you used to, come _on_ —”

"Not here, there's no time—” Keito is stuttering, and Rei is talking like he used to and his skin is cool pressed against Keito's and he wants so badly to prick his lips on those fangs, to let Rei taste him, to stop _holding back._ It's always been like this. Back then, Rei had him hurtling out of his fragile bubble of self-control and relative safety, broke every rule Keito insisted on keeping, made Keito _want_ to break them.

Rei always made Keito want dangerous things, forbidden things. His lips so close, the fruit of sin, dangling freedom before his eyes, and Keito learns what it is to be _hungry_.

"There's no more _fucking_ time to waste on denying this," Rei snarls, and something has changed in his voice, something deep and throaty and dark like blood against pale skin, at night, when there isn't enough light to show the bright red hues and all that's left is thick black wine. "We're about to leave this damn school forever, and if you don't fuck me on this goddamn desk right now, I'll never forgive you, boy."

 _Fine_ , Keito thinks. _Fine_.

"Bastard. Don't call me that again. I'm the one putting it in, you should show me some respect."

"You're still a hundred fuckin' years too early to ask me to respect you, boy." Rei smiles, sharp and pointed and twisted against the light of the moon. "Get back to me in about a century, if ya even live that long."

Frustration and arousal bubble over in the pit of his stomach. Without thinking, Keito lunges forward, and then he's pushing Rei against the window and kissing him, hard. Rei makes a satisfied noise against his lips, tilts his head and opens up further, and long spindly fingers slide up Keito's back and into his hair, pulling, urging. Keito forgets to breathe, the way Rei's legs spread ever so slightly to accommodate Keito's thigh between them, the smell of him— all skin and sweat and the spice of his deodorant— overwhelming and enticing and surrounding him. How much Rei _wants_ this.

How much Keito finds himself wanting as well.

"God, fuck _yeah_ , just like that," Rei pants out the moment Keito breaks contact. Keito takes pride in how desperate Rei's voice has become, how much he craves it, and he throws himself back into Rei, pinning one of his hands above him against the window this time. Rei interlaces their fingers, and Keito pauses.

"Sakuma—”

" _Please_ ," Rei groans, plaintive and breathy. “I want you back, I want this again, I want all of it, so fuckin' bad—”

Keito knows that if he lets Rei keep talking he'll start to say things both of them will regret. Things like _I want us to be together again,_ or _I still love you,_ or _forget about Tenshouin, forget about Kiryu, please come back to me._ So he doesn't let up, he doesn't stop kissing Rei, pushing his lips apart and making Rei sigh into his mouth, cut off by Keito's insistent tongue. He can't let his feelings get out of control. He can't let Rei lead him in again. He can't, he _can’t_ —

Rei's hips grind up and forward against Keito's leg, and Keito gasps.

"How hard are you already?" It's an awed breath, a hesitant question Keito isn't sure if he wants to hear Rei answer— he's got the answer right there against his thigh. Rei shakes his head, his smile sharp as a moonbeam, but his voice is still trembling when he does speak, a vulnerability he can't hide.

" _You_ got me like this, ya know." And those hands wander, now— one mercifully unlacing itself from Keito's fingers, the other that had been gripping his hair sliding down to his hip, then up under the school jacket, into the shirt, against his bare skin. Rei's fingers are so pleasantly cool that Keito feels a chill, a rush through him that doesn't just stop at the surface. "You've been too damn uptight lately, so seein' ya so demanding is..."

"What, you forgot I could be demanding?" Keito realizes he's digging himself a bigger hole, here, but he goes for it nonetheless, pushing wherever Rei exposes himself as less than godly, less than perfect.

"Huh, maybe," Rei hums, fake-absentmindedly. Both hands now are on Keito's hips, pulling him closer, urging him in. "Really missed this side of you. All I've seen from ya lately is that damn nerdy glasses act. Nothin' but that and followin' Tenshouin around like you worship his ass."

Keito reaches up before he can stop himself and fists Rei's collar in one hand. "Shut up, shut _up_ ," he growls, "don't talk about Eichi like you know anything—”

"But who's the better fuck, huh?" Rei arches his hips up, and Keito makes a choked sound of barely suppressed frustration in his throat, before shoving Rei back further, head rattling the glass pane as he hits it. "Yeah, uh huh, I thought so. C'mon."

"You're the worst," Keito grumbles.

"You love me."

Keito doesn't respond. That's not something Keito can respond _to_ ; it's not something he can just so casually confirm, like they had never broken up at all, and yet it's not something he can deny, because at this point Keito's not in the mood to lie to Rei's face. It's a stalemate, and one that makes the atmosphere simmer all the more, all passion and denial and barely suppressed heat.

Rei drops to his knees, hands sliding down the front of Keito's thighs, and Keito jolts the moment he feels Rei undoing his belt, the sound of clinking metal. His usually half-lidded eyes are still heavy, but his pupils are blown wide, and Keito’s unused to seeing that look on him after so long. "Sakuma," he breathes, unable to hide the anticipation in his voice, and Rei responds with a sigh that Keito can almost _feel_ through the layers of fabric. There's something about suddenly having Rei kneeling before him and nuzzling against the front of his pants like he's _pleading_ for it that spurs Keito into a... different state. His mind spins wildly on its own for a few seconds, and then, like the barrel of a revolver, clicks into place.

And then his hand is fisted in Rei's hair, anything but gentle, and pulling him forward, rubbing Rei's face between his legs, demanding friction. Rei whines, and Keito can feel the blood rushing from his head directly to his cock, and he's not thinking by the time he pushes his slacks down far enough to free his quickly growing erection. The noise Rei makes when it's Keito's heated, bare skin against his cheek is absolutely _desperate_ , and Keito stops thinking about the consequences.

"I'm going to feed it to you, since you seem to want it so much," he says, and even though there's no particular command in his words, his voice still demands compliance. "No complaining, now." Rei nods frantically, and Keito marvels at how quickly he's fallen from assertive and dominant to submissive and needy. _He was always like this, though,_ Keito thinks. Well, it's not like he minds.

One hand still tangled in Rei's hair, the other holding the base of his cock, Keito nudges Rei's bitten-red lips with the head until they part. He can't help but groan the moment Rei's soft mouth envelops his tip, but it's not enough, and Rei is taking his time sucking and licking at the head and Keito, Buddha forgive him, has little self control when his cock is in someone's mouth.

Especially Rei's, since he knows Rei can take it, that he won't take initiative like Kuro does (which is nice, don’t get him wrong) or outright choke and have an attack like Eichi probably would (not as nice.) Rei will let him thrust into his mouth, Rei will let Keito move him, pull his hair, control him. Rei will keep his jaw loose and his throat slack and let Keito just use him, and Keito's never felt the need to be gentle or slow with him. This is what he demands of Rei, this is what Rei is good at.

So he doesn't even feel bad when he lets his other hand cradle the back of Rei's head and yanks his hair to pull him all the way forward, until his cock disappears into Rei's waiting mouth, until he's enveloped in that slick heat. Rei doesn't gag, even when Keito feels the head nudge at the back of his throat already, but he certainly does whine, and Keito responds by pulling his hips back, still holding Rei's head in place.

"Careful, boy—” Rei tries to warn him, but Keito isn't having any of it. He keeps Rei's head still as he fucks again into his mouth, snapping his hips into Rei's face.

"I told you, no complaining."

Rei whimpers, barely audible over the ringing in Keito's ears. It's so _good_ — Rei's mouth is so soft, so easy to fill, even if they both have to be careful about those fangs, and Keito finds so much pleasure in just _taking_ what he wants. Indulging himself in that perfect heat, without even sparing a thought to how Rei is doing— it's the opposite of everything he's ever learned in the temple, but Rei has always made Keito a bad Buddhist. Vampires find the most pleasure in leading the pious off the path of righteousness, after all.

Keito's hands have left Rei's hair, grasping the sides of his face to stabilize his head, and Rei eagerly swallows him down every time Keito's hips hit the corners of his mouth. He's drooling freely, unable to swallow, and his face is blotchy and flushed, breathing harshly against Keito's stomach through his nose. It's rough and uncomfortable and bordering on painful, but Keito knows Rei likes it that way, and he loves the way Rei looks when he's got a cock down his throat, all disheveled and ruined and so _red_ with all the blood he's ever taken from others, including Keito himself. He loves the way he gets to watch his cock disappear inside Rei’s mouth, sliding entirely in and feeling Rei’s throat tighten around him, on the verge of choking but never actually getting there—

But there's something urgent and screaming-hot building all too fast inside him, and he can feel himself dripping down Rei's throat, and Keito isn't willing to give up the main event just for the small satisfaction of coming in Rei's mouth. He has bigger plans, after all. So he stills, then pushes Rei back and off his cock, still with a firm grip on the sides of his head, and Rei coughs and then sags, trying to recover the remnants of breath Keito has left him with.

"You said you wanted me to fuck you like I used to, didn't you?" Keito prompts him, as Rei's head falls forward and his forehead presses into Keito's thigh. "Stand up. Hands on the desk, lean forward. Or do I have to position you for me?"

"Ahaa... yeah, fuck, go ahead," Rei sighs, clearly a little exhausted, wiping his chin on the shoulder of his jacket to clean up. "Rough me up a little, c'mon, boy."

Keito barks out a harsh, derisive laugh. "If you think I'm going to bother moving you when you speak to me like that, think again." He grabs a fistful of Rei's hair, yanks his head up to make eye contact. Rei looks a little smug, but a little more desperate.

"Fuck, you're mean, aren't ya? God dammit, fine, then. _Hasumi_."

And then there's something stinging in his chest when Rei says that, something a little too raw. It’s a relief to hear Rei address him by his name— it grounds him in the now, reminding Keito that this isn’t real, that they’re not still young and careless and unburdened with the mistakes Keito was just about to make. He can’t have Rei back, and Rei knows that. No matter how much he wishes it wasn’t, this is the truth between both of them. (And then there’s an extra layer of longing, one Keito really doesn’t want to admit to— hearing Rei say his last name like that makes him want to hear him cry _Keito, Keito, please,_ and it gives him unwanted shivers.)

Keito swallows down those thoughts. He can’t lose concentration now. “That’s more like it,” he says, then yanks Rei up by the arm, turns him around with hands manhandling Rei’s hips, and he catches Rei smiling before he is faced away. Rei is bent over the desk, already going for the button on his trousers, just to make it easier for Keito to yank them down along with the (unfairly short, unfairly fitted) boxers he wears for comfort during Lives.

“This used to be my desk, ya know.” Rei reminds him.

“I know. So?”

“So unless Tenshouin cleaned the whole thing out, there’s gotta be some lube in the filing drawer. It’s in packets, should be in a folder at the back—”

“Sakuma, that’s…” Keito declines to finish his sentence, and holds Rei’s head down with one hand while reaching down into the drawer with the other. Pushing back most of the folders, he finds what he’s looking for, neatly hidden inside an unmarked folder at the very back. “God, I can’t believe he didn’t find this.”

“What’s that, Vice Student Council President?” Rei jibes, rutting back onto Keito’s hips, and just that movement alone snaps Keito back on track.

“None of your concern.” Keito lets go of Rei’s head for a moment to rip the packet open and pour it over his fingers. It’s only then that he notices Rei is trembling, despite how confident his voice is, and he’s reminded of how much he wants this, how much Rei wants this. “I won’t be gentle, then.”

“Wah, cold.” Rei startles when Keito’s slick fingers brush his hole, but then he laughs, sounding unruffled as always. Keito doesn’t give him the time to be proud of himself, though, and the moment he pushes one finger in, Rei immediately writhes back onto his hand, asking for more. He’s _loose,_ Keito notes, and it doesn’t take much effort to ease in a second finger, which has Rei squirming and letting out harsh, hoarse breaths.

“You’re not tight at all. Who’s been filling you since I’ve been gone?”

Rei whines, but only slightly. “No way I’m gonna tell _you_. You can’t just _ask_ like that, Hasumi, that’s mean.”

“Oh? And who says?”

“ _I_ said, _boy_ , so— nngh, _fuck,_ ” Rei’s prideful boast trails off into a curse when Keito curls his fingers, sliding them out and then slowly pushing back in, and Keito can feel him throb. Feeling a bit accomplished, Keito tries again, garnering a slow, breathy moan and a twitch of Rei’s hips back onto his hand. Rei being filled with his fingers is nice, the way he writhes and pulses and pretends not to love it is nice, and Keito doesn’t waste a moment of it— he knows he’s torturing Rei by waiting, just a little, and it’s enough to feel like he’s gotten his revenge.

He pumps his fingers, tortuously slow, crooking them on the backstroke, and Rei groans in what sounds like both pleasure and frustration, shifting back and forth on both feet. “Are you enjoying this?” Keito asks, smirking even though he knows Rei can’t see it, and that’s enough for Rei to snap, turning his head as best he can against Keito’s grip and against the desk.

“Just _fuck me,_ ” Rei growls, digging his nails into the leather desktop. “Just— _God,_ I don’t fuckin’ care if I’m not ready, rough is fine, just, c’mon, please, _Keito_ —”

And there’s that sound, the sound of Keito’s name rolling off Rei’s lips like a sonnet, steeped in lust and desperation and it’s _exactly_ as amazing as he imagined. Keito can feel his cock throb, and no matter how much he wants to keep teasing Rei, he can’t deny he’s aching for it, that he wants to be inside Rei so _badly,_ make him fall apart— Keito’s hands on his hips, leaning over Rei’s back, lining himself up, dripping against his hole, and Rei under him pleading—

The first slick _push_ of Keito’s cock into him is so sweet, so _much,_ that even Keito gasps— but the reaction he gets from Rei outmatches that by a mile. Rei moans, it catches in his throat, petering out into a little whimper, and Keito watches as Rei’s hands ball into fists and weakly slam and drag themselves over the surface of the desk, already overwhelmed and shaking with it. Rei is perfect, always perfect whenever Keito got to be inside him, all heat and pressure and softness on the inside, so much that it’s hard to think about anything else. Keito’s mind narrows to the intense heat inside him, narrows to nothing but Rei, writhing on his cock, already crying out, and he realizes this is where Rei gets him, but of course he’s already too far gone to care.

Rei is trembling. Keito uses his clean hand to get a grip in his hair and pull gently back, making him strain just enough, and Rei’s vocalizations sound more immediate, more throaty this way. It’s all desperate noises and the sudden slap of skin against skin when Keito pulls his hips back, then thrusts in again, bottoming out this time and making Rei yelp in surprise. He knows— he _knows,_ Rei wants it hard and fast, and he isn’t sure just how long he’ll last when Rei is _like this,_ every little movement getting a reaction, every breath turning into a whimper.

But he’ll try, oh _God_ will he try, and hearing how far gone Rei is already Keito knows it’ll be enough.

He fucks in harder, one hand bracing against Rei’s hip, the other in his hair, making Rei’s back arch with the push and pull of it. It’s messy and imprecise and so disgustingly (perfectly) carnal, hearing the slick sound of each thrust, taking him over and over again, hips now less pulling back and thrusting forward than just _rutting,_ already buried to the hilt inside him, the head of his cock undoubtedly brushing Rei’s prostate, evidenced by just how desperate and high Rei’s vocalizations have climbed. Keito barely even tries to hold himself up— Rei can’t see how disgraceful he’s looking, not when he’s bent over the desk like this, so Keito lets himself drape over him, chest pressing into Rei’s back and _feeling_ the vibrations whenever Rei cries out for him. Nestled right into the back of Rei’s neck, Keito can smell sweat and cologne and adrenaline, the unmistakable scent of him overwhelming now that his nose is buried in Rei’s skin. “Fuck, _fuck,_ ’s so good, don’t fuckin’ stop,” Rei is begging, and Keito wants to reply, _I won’t, I won’t, I wish I never had to, I wish I could just keep going forever—_

He’s _missed_ this, he realizes, he’s missed this so _much,_ and Keito grits his teeth, slamming into him harder, deeper to block out the torrent of thoughts threatening to pull him under. Rei keens high in his throat, fumbling under the desk, and Keito realizes he’s on the edge and hasn’t been touched, so he pulls them both back onto the fancy leather chair and lets Rei fall into his lap, giving him space to reach his hand around and give him the stimulation he so badly needs. Rei’s cock is dripping, almost burning-hot, and Keito can feel it twitch in his hand as he strokes it rapidly, letting Rei squirm on him and roll his hips until his head finally tilts all the way back onto Keito’s shoulder and Keito can hear him cry out right next to his ear, wavering and melodic, “yeah, _ohh,_ Kei _to—_ Keito, Keito, fuck, _please—_ ”

It’s been so _long_ since the last time he’s heard Rei say his name like that. _Rei is most dangerous,_ Keito realizes, _when he’s not in control._ Rei being assertive and dominant is one thing, but he really is most seductive when he’s lost his inhibitions, when he’s so shameless and desperate that no one can look at him and not want to just _have_ him. Of course this is how Rei manages to get him, every time— of course this is what makes him lose it, it always has.

And that’s the last full thought Keito has before he loses his mind entirely, gripping Rei’s waist so hard he’s sure he’ll leave bruises, rutting mindlessly into him for a few more blissful, burning seconds until he yanks Rei’s hips back onto his cock, burying himself as deep as he can as he finally fills him. “Sakuma,” he chants, rhythmic, like a sutra, before the words change and the prayer means something completely different, “fuck, Rei, _Rei—_ ”

Rei spills, finally, in Keito’s hand, hot and slick already with precum and sweat, nothing but broken breath and undiluted need for a good twenty seconds before the imminent desperation wears off. Keito’s brain is spinning, both with the aftershocks of orgasm and of hearing Rei say his name like that— _Keito, Keito_ — and he chokes out a sigh, letting his forehead fall onto Rei’s back. The shroud of silence between them is punctured only by their labored breath and the sound of Rei’s heart beating where Keito is pressed too close to his skin.

But just as quickly as it comes, the moment is over, the feeling ebbs away, and Rei groans quietly and shifts uncomfortably on Keito’s lap. Keito realizes a bit late that he’s still inside him, _and_ that he’s sitting on Eichi’s expensive leather chair completely bare-assed, and that’s on top of all the sweat and… other unmentionables that Rei may have gotten on it.

It brings him back to reality rather quickly, and so do the scattered papers across his desk which Rei had most definitely been on top of (including the DEADMANZ disbandment form, he notes,) and Keito feels a pang. He shifts, getting Rei out of his lap and pulling out with a grimace, and then immediately gives himself a cursory wipe down with the tissues so conveniently located on the right side of the desk before pulling up his pants and fumbling already with the buckle.

“So soon to leave?” Rei says with a sigh, and Keito pointedly doesn’t reply. “You never were the cuddly type, huh.” But he’s already resignedly cleaning himself up as well, and Keito notices he does look a little sad. The air is heavy with the smell of sex (which Keito knows he’ll have to somehow remove from the chair, lest Eichi get angry, or worse, _laugh_ at him) and the weight of moonbeams, the weight of what is between them, what has just been done.

“Sakuma.” Keito doesn’t turn around to face him.

“Huh?”

“Did you mean it, when you said you wanted me back?”

Rei turns around. Keito still doesn’t look at him. “What kinda question is—”

“I need to know,” Keito interrupts, finally letting himself face him. “I need to know, before we go, before I sign this form, if you were serious. I— I need to make sure I’m not doing something we’ll regret, so…”

Rei looks at him, for a long, hard moment. Keito feels his heart throb in his throat. _Something we’ll regret. We._ That gaze is piercing, even more so now that the moon has mostly reached its zenith above them, and for some reason Keito thinks he sees sorrow in Rei’s eyes.

But it’s not the kind of sorrow that still strives and pines for what it cannot have. It’s the accepting kind, the kind that you feel looking at an empty room, or at the one that got away, but you’re not trying to fill the room again, or run after them. Keito knows this very well. There are things between them that can’t be fixed, just looked at and understood after the fact, regrettably, like a particularly rough draft that never quite looked right.

(That Keito is still learning from, even now.)

Rei is still silent as he reaches into his chest pocket and pulls out the fountain pen. He hands it to Keito, his eyes soft, searching and finding exactly what they need— acceptance, reciprocity— and their hands brush a little too long, and then find each other, settling in. Rei’s skin is especially warm now.

“Maybe at the moment,” Rei finally admits. “But not now. Not anymore.”

Rei’s eyes are still smiling, melancholy half-moons.

“Okay.” Keito breathes out through his nose. “Just making sure.”

He returns the same sad smile with his lips this time. Rei leans in quietly to kiss it off him.

“Get your work done, boy,” Rei prompts him, voice so soft, lips still so red, looking at Keito like a work of art he can’t afford, one that already resides with someone else. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It’s not _goodbye._ It’s not _this is the end._ It’s _talk to you later,_ it’s _see you soon._

(It’s _you’re still a part of me,_ it’s _we can begin again as something else._ It’s _I’m not leaving you._ )

 

As he turns to leave, Keito watches him. He doesn’t move until the door closes. Then, with a renewed sense of confidence, he sits down, touches pen to paper, and signs the form. He stamps it, places it on top of the stack of other forms, and stands again, walking towards the door.

He looks back, just once, and is reminded— he sees a floating, burning sheet of paper in the corner of his eye, and when he blinks, it’s nothing but the afterimage of a fire.

 


End file.
